"Impostor! wouldst have me believe every wish that folly genders? To the
proof!" sullenly replied Sir Osmund.
"What says the Lady Mabel? Let her decide," returned the other.
"She!" cried the ingrate, with a contemptuous sneer; "her wits are so
set upon it, that she would worship any ill-favoured lout that should
call himself her husband."
"'Tis false! unblushing as thou art." The lightning kindled in the
lady's eye as she spoke. Sir Osmund quailed beneath her glance.
"Am I mad?" she continued; "ay, if thy wish could have goaded me to it.
Thou hast heaped on me tortures, indignities, cruel as thy relentless
nature could devise; but I have been spared for this!" Her lips
quivered. Shuddering, she spoke with amazing energy and distinctness. "I
_have_ repented, day and night, but they were unavailing tears. Oh, if I
have wronged thee"--she covered her face with her hands--"it was not
even in thought that I grew unfaithful to thy trust. My babes, in a
moment of weakness I looked on them, smiling as they lay. I could not
dash the cup from their lips ere they had well nigh tasted. I could not
behold them so soon doomed to misery and want.
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